Sara Sidle's Day off
by elrenia77
Summary: Response to a fanfic challenge on the grissomandsara mailing list. Sara is ill and she gets some TLC from an unexpected visitor. GSR.


_Here it is. My first piece of fanfiction. It is a response to a fanfic challenge issued on the grissomandsara mailing list.  
_

_I would like to thank Veronica 10 for beta-ing. Thank you so much for your help! Any other mistakes are my own (Please bear me, I'm German)._

_Please read and review. I am always open for constructive criticism. But, please, no flames, as one can hardly learn from them. _

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own CSI nor do I want to profit from it in any way. _

_Well, enough said, here we go:_

_

* * *

Challenge responses must include the following:_

_1. GSR (obviously)  
2. Either Griss or Sara must be ill.  
3. Sara has to say: "There's something that you don't see everyday... well, outside of Vegas, I mean."  
4. The following should be somehow incorporated: a slide show, a drive thru wedding chapel, and a heating pad in a really odd place.  
5. The last line must be Shakespearean quote._

**

* * *

Sara Sidle's Day off**

Her usually spotless kitchen was a mess.

Everywhere in her apartment were used tissues and half-empty or empty bottles of water. A heating pad – long forgotten – was dangling from one of her kitchen stools.

The apartment was a mess.

Sara Sidle was ill.

Really ill.

It had been a long time since she had been _that_ ill.

On her first day off this month, Sara woke up with a sore throat. After gargling with hot salt water, there was no improvement. It only got worse. To top it all off, she suffered from a splitting headache. After a few ibuprofens she was able to sleep. Feverish dreams accompanied her healing rest.

The next day, the sore throat was gone. Now she could hardly breathe. Her nose was stuck. Whenever she blew it and she thought 'Yeah, that's it," her nose was clogged again.

Life was just plain miserable.

And so her second free day went by contemplating how much she hated being ill and how much she enjoyed work. Ever being a criminalist, Sara wondered if there had ever been a DB under suspicious circs that suffocated to death by a clogged nose. Today, she knew, it wasn't too far-fetched.

When the third day arrived, Sara was supposed to go back to work. However, she realised that she was in no condition whatsoever to go to work. Showering took already all her strength and she had to lie down again under a fit of coughing.

Reluctantly, she picked up her phone and called work.

"Grissom."

"Hey, Grissom, it's me, Sara." A coughing attack interrupted her.

"Are you okay, Sara?"

"Not really. I'm sorry, I have a terrible cold. I can't come into work today."

"Yes, yes, I can hear that," Grissom remarked.

Sara rolled her eyes at the Grissomesque answer. He was always the analysist. "Anyway," Sara continued, "I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks, Sara. We'll be more than alright without you. Just try to get better, will you?"

"Of course, see you later then," Sara coughed into the phone.

"Sure. Get better."

And with that the phone conversation was over. Sara was left alone with her thoughts. After calling him they were dancing around Grissom and their relationship – if you could call it relationship. He obviously worries about work because it was the first thing he mentioned, "we'll be alright without you." Sara just wondered if his words about her well-being were just empty sayings or real concern.

A really bad coughing fit interrupted her thoughts and Sara focused on being ill again.

She grabbed the heating pad from the kitchen stool as she hadn't been able to find it the night before. She took another bottle of water from the fridge and went back to bed, hoping that sleep would free her from her misery.

Many hours later, dawn was breaking and Sara was still in some kind of daze. Her head-ache was gone but the rest of her body still hurt. Her nose was finally running and not so stuffy anymore. Her cough was loosening up a bit.

She was still somewhere in la-la-land when she heard a soft knock on her front door. Against her will she struggled to get up and move to her front door. Sara didn't bother to put on a robe over her sweat pants, tank top and some self-knitted woollen socks – leftovers from a really weird phase in college. She was ill. Whoever was at the door would have to understand.

Sara was surprised when she saw Grissom standing on the other side of the door. She quickly let him in. Grissom carried a thermos.

"Hey Sara," he greeted her with a shy smile.

"Griss? What brings you here?" Sara replied surprised.

Nervously, Grissom pushed up his glasses, "Well, you sounded so miserable last night, I thought that some soup might give you a little bit more strength."

Sara was absolutely stunned. This was very un-Grissom-like. He never bothered though he told her once that he was concerned. But their friendship hadn't been much of a friendship in more recent years.

Grissom looked absolutely adorable offering her shyly the hot beverage, Sara decided. She graciously took the thermos from him.

"Thanks Grissom. I know chicken broth is supposed to be really good for you, but I'm a veg…"

"No, no," Grissom interrupted her, "It's vegetarian. Vegetable broth. I didn't forget." His lips twisted up into a sheepish smile.

"Thank you very much, Grissom. Would you like to sit down for a bit? As long as you keep your distance, I might not pass this bug on to you."

Grissom raised an eyebrow.

"No pun intended," Sara quickly added.

She was intrigued by Grissom's openness. She never expected him to do this, not after all this time when he kept his distance.

Grissom sat down on her couch after he discreetly removed some used tissues and put them in the trash next to Sara's small desk.

"I'm sorry about this mess," Sara said from the kitchen, "Would you like some of your soup or maybe water or something?"

"Water is fine," Grissom said.

Sara took the mug with the steaming vegetable broth and a water bottle for Grissom. "Here," she said while giving Grissom his drink. She sat down in her arm chair, "So, Griss, how was work? Any interesting new cases?"

"What?" Grissom replied grinning, "You didn't listen to the police scanner?"

Sara just rolled her eyes. "No, I was actually sleeping!" Deep down she was more than pleased about the light tone that Grissom gave their conversation. It came close to old times. It felt like flirting and Sara relished every second of it.

Grissom just raised an eyebrow which let Sara to throw a cushion at him. He laughed and it felt good to hear him laugh, Sara thought.

"You want to hear about the shift? Fine, I'll tell you – under one condition!"

Sara looked a little bit annoyed at his demand.

"Before you say anything, hear me out, please," Grissom's eyes reflected his concern, "I know we just joked about it but you are ill. Please let us trade places and you lie down on the couch."

Grissom's eyes were so soft and pleading that Sara could only nod. They traded their places. Sara pulled an afghan over her which Grissom had handed to her. Once settled in their new seats, Grissom started his story: "I paired myself with Greg tonight. He should learn from the best and if you aren't there, he's gotta live with me."

Sara's mouth fell open. A really big compliment – totally off-hand. This was truly a big admission. And like always, Grissom pretended that he couldn't care less about what he just said. As if it was the most natural thing he could say.

"Didn't you and Nicky work on a case at an alien Wedding chapel come time last year?"

Sara was still too dumbfounded to response so she just nodded her head.

"Well this time it took Greg and me to one of those drive-thru wedding chapel. A limousine drove up to the wedding window and when the tinted car windows scrolled down the minister was greeted with a vision of red. The happy couple had been murdered as well as their two witnesses. And the limo driver claims he didn't hear or see anything as the wall was up between the front and the back."

Sara laughed a humourless laugh, "There's something you don't see everyday… well outside of Vegas, I mean."

Grissom smiled sadly. As a crime scene investigator working in Las Vegas it truly seemed that the city has it's quirks about unusual crimes and crime scenes. "Yes, only in Vegas. We are still processing the evidence…"

They talked about work, about cases that had demanded the whole team's attention, about interesting cases they wanted to share with the other, about cases they had worked together such as the case in the psychiatric ward. Grissom admitted that he had been scared beyond belief. He admitted that he had felt very useless. Sara admitted that she had been frightened to death but that his look, his silent support had strengthened her to hold on, to not give up.

They talked about Ecklie splitting up their team, about Catherine's attitude as a supervisor, about missing Warrick and Nick, about Greg's advances in his field work. They talked about Sophia. Grissom was surprised at Sara's hostile attitude towards the other night shift's CSI. Sara was not surprised that Grissom hadn't noticed. Grissom was actually hurt by her sarcastic comment. Sara was hurt when Grissom talked about his dinner with Sophia but relieved when he mentioned his irritation about Sophia's behaviour while it lasted. Grissom was relieved when he realised from Sara's narrations that she saw Greg as a little brother she could teach everything about her world.

They talked about forensics in general, about articles that they had read in forensic journals, about the entomology book Grissom had given Sara for Christmas, about abstract ideas as of how to collect evidence in odd places under extreme conditions.

They talked about private things. Grissom asked tentatively about Sara's childhood, about her home, about her time in foster care. Sara cried but had never felt more cherished, more cared about in her whole life. When her tears subsided, Grissom almost whispered the story of his childhood. He told her about his mother going deaf, about his dad leaving the young family. Sara asked tentatively about his hearing, about the observations she had made two years ago. Grissom admitted he had surgery. He talked about his fear never to hear again.

The whole conversation was intense.

And surreal.

Sometimes Sara wondered if this was another of her feverish dreams. It was a conversation between nightmare and day dream as she lived through ups and downs, laughing and crying, caring and hating.

She grew tired during the conversation, lying on the couch with the warm and comfy afghan covering her.

They were talking about their time in Harvard, back when they first had met.

"You just couldn't stop asking questions. And you wanted answers. You have no idea how much I enjoyed our walks through the parks," Grissom remembered.

Sara was almost asleep now and it took her some time to answer. "It was a beautiful autumn."

Then there was silence. Grissom reminiscing about their past while Sara drifted off to sleep.

At one point she thought she felt someone covering her up again as the afghan had almost fallen off her sleeping form.

At one point she thought that someone brushed a hand over her cheek and through her hair.

At one point she thought that someone had given her a cooling kiss on her heated forehead.

At one point she thought someone had whispered "Sleep well, my beautiful Sara." She could have sworn that it was Grissom's voice…

A few hours later Sara awoke again to an empty home. She actually had to think a little bit about why she was camping out on her couch. Then she remembered Grissom.

Slowly, she sat up and looked around. The empty water bottles had been collected and binned as well as her used tissues. The place looked relatively tidy again. In the kitchen she found the mug she had used for the vegetable broth sitting in the sink.

On the kitchen counter, she found a not from Grissom:

_Sara,_

_Please stay at home tonight. I know you want to work but please take care of yourself first until you are better. You will be missed but we will be able to survive without your devotion for a couple of more nights._

_Get better soon,_

_GG_

Nothing about the deep conversation they had shared. Sara started to feel embarrassed. Both had told so many things, so many secrets about themselves and he completely ignored it. She had thought that they had bonded that morning.

Sara knew better. But knowing is not always feeling.

Her cold was getting better. She felt much more human-like after her shower. She still had to rest many times and her nose was sore from all the cleaning and her chest ached from all the coughing but at least she knew that she would live.

The day passed in a blur. Sara read some forensic journals, watched some mindless TV programs and slept in her bed or on the couch, wherever she just felt like it. And all the time she had to think about Grissom, about her being so stupid to be lured in by him.

When dawn broke, she heard some knocking at her front door though it sounded more like someone kicking her door. Carefully, Sara looked through the peephole in her door. She was astonished to see Grissom standing on the other side. He was packed with a couple of huge bags and a long screen which was rolled up tugged under his arm. Sara opened her door quickly.

"Griss, what… how… what is this?"

"Hi Sara," Grissom smiled at her, "May I come in? These things get quiet heavy."

"Of course," Sara stood quickly away from the front door so that Grissom could get past her. He dropped everything on the couch. Once he had unloaded everything, he turned around to Sara.

"How have you been today? Is your cold getting better?"

Sara was still gob smacked. Grissom was in her apartment – again. This was the second time in as many nights. "Thanks, my cold is getting a little bit better. At least I don't feel like walking death anymore."

Grissom smiled gently, "You still sound ill."

Sara could only shrug at that. A rather uncomfortable silence followed. Sara was still reeling from the resurfacing feelings she had for Grissom. Was his appearing here a sign that he actually did acknowledge their heartfelt conversation yesterday morning? Grissom, on the other hand, was working up his courage to… he didn't know exactly. But he knew deep down that things were about to change. Their relationship had made a massive jump to the front yesterday and he didn't want to take that back. He wanted another step in that direction. It had felt good and he suspected that another step would feel equally good or even better.

"Do you remember that we talked about our time at Harvard yesterday? You were almost asleep," Grissom began.

Sara nodded her head, "Yes, I do remember. By the way, thanks for cleaning up the place. That wasn't necessary." She continued when she remember what she had found after waking up again.

Grissom looked confused. "No problem. Anyway," Grissom moistened his lips, "I can only imagine that you start getting stir-crazy, right? I thought… I have slides from that autumn. I don't think I've ever shown them to you. Maybe, you would like to take a look at them now?" Grissom fidgeted with his hands.

Sara, however, smiled reassuringly. She really appreciated his efforts, "That would be lovely. And yes, you are right. Just sitting around without anything really to do, is driving me crazy." She cherished Grissom's smile she got in return.

"Have you had breakfast, yet?" Sara asked. Grissom shook his head. "Then, why don't I make us some toast while you set up the slide show?"

"Yes, that's a good idea. But, please, take it easy."

Sara laughed, "I am really feeling better, Griss, and it's not like buttering toast will be too tiring."

They went both along with their business. Sara prepared the toasts – some with butter, some with strawberry jam. She also made fresh coffee for them. Grissom on the other hand set up the screen and the projector. He set up the screen right opposite the couch and put the projector on the coffee table. Sara soon carried a plate with toast and two steaming mugs of coffee into the living room area. Grissom took her offerings gratefully. He pulled the curtains close and switched off the lights except for a small lamp on Sara's desk. The apartment was shaded in a comfortable semi-darkness.

Sara was about to prop herself up on the couch, when Grissom remarked, "Wait!"

Sara was too taken aback and stopped all her motions. Grissom squeezed himself next to Sara. In one hand he held the remote for the projector and with the other he pulled Sara close to him. At first Sara was completely stiff from shock. But she soon relaxed and snuggled up into Grissom's warm body. As soon as he realised that she relaxed, Grissom gave her a gentle squeeze before pulling the afghan from the other side of the couch over the two of them. It was all that Sara had ever dreamt of.

They started the slide show in silence. The first pictures were beautiful impressions of the marvellous colours of autumn in New England. It was a feast for the eyes. Sara felt herself sigh a few times. She did miss the East coast, where there were actually seasons and not just a dry heat as it was in the desert city Las Vegas. Each time she sighed, Grissom pulled her just a bit closer, probably feeling her wish of going back to the place where they had met and been so happy.

Then there were pictures of Sara. She groaned at each one of them, which Grissom found truly amazing as he had never seen anymore beautiful pictures in his whole life. At one point, Sara felt his warm breath near her ear: "You are so beautiful. The autumn colours fade into dull tones next to you, my dear Sara."

Sara shivered. This evening seemed to be as surreal as the previous one. But this time she was enveloped in Grissom. His body warmth and his scent were intoxicating. The best medicine Sara ever tried.

Then there was a photo of them both. Sara drew in a shaky breath when she saw Grissom's look in this picture. It spoke of love, of adoration. Back then she had known that her mentor felt something more for her but only this picture made her realize just how much. Tears started welling up in her eyes. This was Grissom's way of showing her what he had felt at that time – maybe still now. She didn't dare to hope.

Again, he seemed to realise what she needed to hear.

"I still love you, you know." He planted a sweet kiss on her temple.

A lone tear slipped down Sara's cheek. She so desperately wanted to believe him. She turned her head to look into his eyes. They did mirror the eyes that were forever banned on that picture which was still displayed. They were just warmer and more alive. She looked at him questioningly. And once more, he knew exactly what Sara needed. He bent forward and kissed her gently. Then he whispered:

"Doubt though the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

* * *

The quote at the end is from Hamlet. Don't ask me where, I wrote it down separately when I read the drama. 


End file.
